Face Down
by Summers Rage
Summary: Angry bruises covered her body, some were fleshly made and black against her skin while others were turning a sickly yellow as they began to heal. Cuts littered the inside of her thighs, and those he was sure were self-inflicted. Thousands of questions were at the tip of his tongue, but those could wait til morning, there was only one that mattered tonight.


It was late, much too late. Derek Venturi and his partner in crime were sitting on a worn couch; in the house he and Sam shared, playing Babe Raider for the millionth time, except Derek's mind wasn't in the game. Every few minutes his eyes would lift up from the game and dart between the front door and the clock. Something wasn't right.

As the game level ended and Babe Raider announced his defeat Sam looks to his friend "I've beaten you 3 straight times tonight without so much as a nasty comment from you, what's up"

Before Derek even had a chance to answer there was a weak knock, the front door squeaked open and in stumbled the girl, who as of late, had completely consumed his thoughts.

"Casey" he said shooting up off the couch before she had even stepped foot over the threshold. She flinched violently at the sound of her name cowering against the door. "Case" he said again more gently, taking a careful step towards her.

That voice, it sounded so familiar to her, but she was sure it was just her mind playing tricks on her. There's no way that Derek would ever talk to her that way, it wasn't him, he didn't care. "Puh-Please" She said in a shaken voice, her eyes never once looking towards him. "I… I'm s-so-sorry"

"What are you sorry for Casey," Derek asked moving slowly towards her, watching as her legs shook beneath her.

"I'm so sorry. Please don't" she sad louder this time, trembling with a force Derek had never seen before.

"Casey do you know who I am?" She looked puzzled.

"Look at me Casey" he said, gentle fingers sliding their way under her chin, applying enough pressure to lift her head up so those beautiful blue eyes were now looking straight into his.

"Derek?" she whispered, not believing it was true. Derek, her Derek, was standing in front of her, concern in his eyes. But why, why was he here, where was here? All she remembered was Max… sitting alone with him. His hot breath in her ear promising a most gruesome end to those she loved if she so much as screamed, the feel of his hands on her body as he pulled, pinched, and groped.

Before she knew what was happening he was on top of her, ripping at her clothes. He had her down to nothing more a tank top and underwear; his hands roughly pulling her tightly clenched thighs apart.

Suddenly she was running, Max's angry cries echoing through the empty house as she bolted down the stairs and out into the raging blizzard. Knowing she could never out run the football star she opted inside to outsmart him. Forcing her already tired legs to carry her faster than ever before, she run towards his backyard, and the darkness of the woods that lay just beyond his property.

As she neared the edge of the forest she heard Max's strangled cries over the force of the wind. Taking refuge behind a large tree, she began to pray to whatever god would listen to spare her that night.

Hearing the revving of his engine, Casey released the breath she didn't know she was holding. While the threat of Max was gone for the moment, a new one quickly replaced him. She was now outside in the cold with little clothing. Taking but a moment to slide on the pair of jeans she had no memory of grabbing over her bruised and frost bitten legs, she continued moving knowing full well if she didn't get somewhere warm soon she would surely perish.

The journey was long and brutal, but there was one thing that kept her going: him. The thought of hearing his voice again, even if it was only to call her Klutzilla. After what seemed like an eternity she neared a familiar sight. The Prince was parked outside in its usual spot. The living room lights were on and through the window she could see two people sitting on the couch, although she could not register who they were.

She knocked once, solely out of habit, before opening the front door; Casey stumbled inside, a wave of hot air rushing towards her. She heard someone calling her name, still in shock she was able to only match the voice to one person: Max. Panic set in and apologies flew out of her mouth.

"Casey do you know who I am?" This stopped her. Of course she knew who he was, didn't she? There was something about that voice though, it didn't add up.

"Look at me Casey" The voice, commanded, fingers sliding underneath her chin. At first she flinched at the contact, expecting nothing but pain but as her head tilted upwards she was met with a familiar sight.

Soft brown eyes, glistening with tears, met her tired blue ones. She knew those eyes immediately. "Derek?" she whispered, reaching a shaky hand out towards him, not believing it to be true.

"It's me Case, it's me," he whispered, his hand meet hers, slowly leading it to his face. Letting out a strangled cry she collapsed, his hockey reflexes kicked in and he grabbed her before she hit the ground.

"Sam" Derek said, his eyes not leaving the poor girl in his arms.

"Already on it dude" his friend said barreling up the stairs.

Carefully shifting her in his arms, Derek picked her up bridal style and carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom and onto his waiting bed. Setting her down he was finally able to take her all in. Her pale skin was like ice on his, lips a bluish purple, her whole body trembled beneath his comforter. She worn no shoes, feet caked in dirt and blood, what little clothing she wore was soaked through, only adding to her chill.

Without thinking he reached towards the ice-covered button on her jeans, with the intentions of removing the watered down article of clothing, but before he could slide the button through the slit she jolted upright screaming.

Casey was only half aware of her surroundings, two strong arms engulfing her almost weightless body, the creaking of a door, and something soft and warm underneath her. She let herself get lost in the warmth and sweet smell of wherever she was when she felt a shift in weight and pressure on her lower abdomen.

Screaming, she bolted upright bringing her legs into her chest she began to thrash violently in an attempt to ward off her attacker.

"Whoa, Casey it's me. It's just me. Derek. Remember?" His words seemed to soother her, for her struggling ceased.

"That's my girl," he said wiping the matted hair from her forehead. "Case, I need to get you out of these wet clothes." His eyes asking for permission to the question he couldn't bring himself to ask. She nodded.

Slowly reaching out towards her again, he placed a trembling hand on the button of her jeans. Looking to her for permission, which she gave, he slipped the cool metal through the loop of denim.

He had dreamt of this moment so many times before, but never like this. His hands would fumble with the buttons of her jeans as her slid them down her long legs, her moaning with pleasure as they brushed against her warm creamy skin. It was never supposed to be like this.

He never lost eye contact with her as he slowly slid the wet fabric down her legs and off of her thin frame. "Will you let me clean you up?" he asked looking into her eyes. A hot blush spread across her cheeks and she nodded, unable to find her voice.

Sliding one arm around her shoulders, the other he looped around her knees and lifted her up with ease and carried her to his bathroom.

Sam had drawn a nice warm bath, and put a large fluffy towel on the counter, setting their large and rather impressive first aid kit sitting on top before retiring to his room. He loved Casey like a sister, but he knew that tonight she needed Derek.

It wasn't until Derek got Casey under the bright lights that he was able to see the extent of her injuries. Angry bruises covered her body, some were fleshly made and black against her skin while others were turning a sickly yellow as they began to heal. Cuts littered the inside of her thighs, and those he was sure were self-inflicted. Handprints were marked on her thighs and bare breasts. Thousands of questions were at the tip of his tongue, but those could wait til morning, there was only one that mattered tonight.

"Casey, before I do anything more I need to know, were you raped?" His heart dropped the second the words left his mouth. Saying it made it seem like a possibility, made the scene in front of him real.

She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, "No." The word was barely a whisper but her heard it all the same. His head dropped into her lap as he released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Fighting tears that threatened to fall, he collected himself and began work on the broken girl in front of him.

Dipping a clean washcloth into the warm soapy water that filled the bathtub, he began to clean and dress her wounds. Derek was skilled in the art of first aid, choosing to heal his wounds himself instead of visiting a doctor. He knew how to clean and wrap wounds without causing too much pain, how to soothe aching bones and muscles.

His hands were soft and gentle as he went from wound to wound, carefully cleaning and wrapping each one. He turned then to the bruises, tenderly covering each one with his hands he searched for any signs of broken bones.

As his hands ran along her skin, he was able to feel every bone in her body. Guilt surged through him, how could he not have noticed her shrinking form before? Something like this didn't just happen overnight, it would have taken time and a lot of it for Casey's once muscular dancer body have shrunk down to all skin and bones. Heavy black bags lay under her sad once bright eyes. Her hair was dull, having lost all its shine and body. She was shadow of her former self.

Lost in his thoughts, Derek barely registered Casey shifting uncomfortably under his gaze; her body was tense under his hands as if she expected nothing but pain to come from his touch. "It's okay Casey, I'm not going to hurt you" She looked at him, trust and sorrow showing in her eyes.

"Would you like to wash up?" She nodded, once again looking away. Crouching down he wrapped one arm tenderly around her back, the other he snaked under her knees and carefully lifted her up. Turning around he slowly placed her in the healing bath. Casey hissed as the warm water washed over her cold and wounded body.

She immediately grabbed the cloth floating in the tub and began scrubbing away at her skin.

"Casey stop," he said grabbing the offending cloth from her hands "You're going to reopen everything." Dipping the cloth back into the water he began to gently wipe away the dirt and cold.

His eyes never left hers as her washed her frail body and matted locks. Casey couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips as his hands massaged her scalp.

She moaned, Casey had actually moaned, and he was the cause of it. His hands shook as he wrapped her wet body in fluffy white towel. Carrying her back to his room he dried and dressed her in a pair of his boxers and a hockey jersey before tucking her into safely into his bed.

"Stay with me?"

"Of course."

Pulling back the covers Derek slide in bed, wrapping his arms around her, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and began to hum quietly as they both drifted off to sleep.


End file.
